


Painting

by wlbleach_strawberry



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bullying, Cock Tease, Cutting, Friendship/Love, High School, Hospital Sex, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Past Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Rimming, Slow Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Teen Romance, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wlbleach_strawberry/pseuds/wlbleach_strawberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As time went on, I learnt that my greatest fear in life, was 'people'.  High school. That was when my life took a complete turn. I started to paint. My first painting was supposed to be my last. It was ruined when a beautiful boy with emerald eyes stepped into my life. And I, a suicidal teenager, just had to fall for him- Eren Jaeger. </p><p>A story on how a suicidal teenager with a traumatic past and is constantly bullied, begins to have faith and build trust with the people around him. Starting with a green-eyed brat first, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

 

High school. That was when my life took a complete turn. I started to paint.

 

You see- I was a boy who was frail and weak. I was not just meek, but introverted. With silky locks of raven hair cascading down my piercing orbs,  


I would hear the constant insults that were hurled at me.  


 

'Emo', 'fag', 'loner' and worse- 'son of a bitch'. 

 

Sure. It pissed me off. However, it wasn't untrue. I had been the product of a wealthy French businessman and a prostitute. Not to mention that

bastard father of mine left after a month and my mother slaved her life and body to raise me up. 'Son of a bitch' huh?  It wasn't a truth I tried to

run away from. It was a fact. The reality just had to slap me right across the cheek, hard.

 

Having been raised in such dire conditions, life had been tough. Bleak, even. Then again..... I wasn't sure what 'life' then, truly meant. Did it mean

sleeping in the dumps? Watching my mother drag her bleeding and bruised body into the tiny apartment we shared? Resisting hunger pangs and

facing death not just once but on multiple occasions?

 

 

**"Fuck! This feels great."**

 

 

I remember these words vividly. They have remained etched in my mind since that day.

 

The day I first embarked on the journey of a painter.

 

Locked up in the last cubicle of the boys' toilet, along with sharpeners that had been strewn all over the place by my classmates, I had kicked start

my very first artwork. A painting.

 

 

It started with a line.

Before- I'd been just fine.

As teeth begin to grind,

I'm losing sight, I'm blind.

 

Paintbrush held in hand,

pieces hard to mend.

With it, I can fend.

Without it?

Defenseless, then, I'd stand.

 

 

Lovely, dark and deep. My painting was beautiful. Mesmerizing. Intriguing. The canvas on my left had been torn up, speckles of ruby dotting across

each line. Strange emotions settled at the pits of my stomach. I brushed it aside. It was a sight to behold.

 

Weariness. I was feeling faint and high. A little too much, for my liking. I never knew when darkness overwhelmed me and when I was engulfed in

pitch black. I never knew......

 

 

Light streamed in. I groaned.

 

Cautious footsteps. Someone was coming near. I frowned. I had to get up. I had to run. But my body was not willing to cooperate.

 

_**Stand up. You need to run. Don't let it touch you. Don't let it come near you. Or it will all be over.** _

 

Gentle fingertips rested on my cheek. I flinched. Eyelashes fluttered open. I met emerald orbs. 

 

_**Get away from it. Move away. Run.** _

 

Lovely, dark and deep. His eyes were beautiful. Mesmerizing. Intriguing. Momentarily, I was lost in the depths of his eyes. I was enthralled.

 

 

"Where am I?"

"Are you alright?"

 

I blinked, vision clearing up. What the actual hell? Did that kid in front just ask me...

 

"I'm Eren! Nice to meet you," Green-eyes chirped merrily, pausing.

_Fuck. Not another talkative brat_. I sighed inwardly, staring at him carefully. _Not bad. Nice body._

 

"- I was in the toilet. And I kind of saw a puddle of reddish liquid spilling out of the last cubicle. So I flung the door open with all my might by

kicking it and there you lay, bleeding. I didn't know what to do since school's over so I carried you back to my home. I bandaged up your wounds

but you're bound to be sore. Like- the wounds are deep. Hey. Heyyyyy?"

He waved a fucking hand. _Brat_. I scowled. Then again, _nice body_.  


 

"Hey. You listening? You look so zoned out! Are you-"

"Oi. Brat. Would you just shut the hell up for a minute?" I spat, glaring at the boy who was- ( _great_ ) taller than I was.

 

Silence. Gazes were exchanged.

 

"Why?"

Eren quirked an eyebrow, "What do you mean, why?"

 

"It was supposed to be my first artwork. It was supposed to end perfectly. It was supposed to be my first and my last painting, " I whispered 

accusingly, trembling.

 

 

You see- unlike ordinary painters, I didn't work on canvases. I worked on skin. My skin.

 

My first painting? It was the beginning of the life of a suicidal teenager who'd been wrecked. 

 

 

 

 


	2. Complexity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You see- some paintings are too complex. No one understands. Even if they try to.

 

"Why?"

 

Eren quirked an eyebrow, "What do you mean, why?"

 

"It was supposed to be my first artwork. It was supposed to end perfectly. It was supposed to be my first and my last painting, " I

whispered accusingly, trembling, " So- why? Why did you save me?"

 

A swirl of green burned intensely. I held Eren's gaze with equal fiery. His plump lips parted a fraction but shut when words failed

to come through. Instead, he proceeded to sit cross-legged on the bed I lay on.

 

"Why? Answer me," I growled viciously, pushing myself up from the bed abruptly.

 

Pain shot through my entire body. Slumping forward like a ragdoll, I winced, gripping onto my bandaged forearm. Blood seeped

through what used to be unblemished dressing. My fingers curled into a fist as a grunt emitted from my throat. It hurt. Yet it felt

so good.  My eyelids fluttered close. Concentrating on the dull ache and steady thumping of my heart, I relaxed.  My painting that

had been enclosed, was finally free of its binds! Each stroke. Each delicate line. Each wound re-opened. I sighed, relishing in the

mixed emotions that overwhelmed me as a whole. It was quiet. Awfully quiet. I was at peace. At last.

 

Tranquility never lasted long for me, though.

 

"Damn it. You're bleeding again! Shit. Are you-"

"Shut the hell up," I groaned, steel-grey eyes fixated on the brat who was close. Too close.

 

His powerful scent swept across me, taking me by surprise. He smelt of fresh mint, both enticing and comforting. He smelt like

Mother. A lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down. Momentarily, I had a strong urge to lunge at him and cling on to him,

breathing in his scent. I restrained myself, untrimmed fingernails digging into the flesh of my palm.

 

**_Get away from him. It's not too late. Run._ **

Warmth radiated from his body. He was so close. I leant in slightly. We were a shoulder-width apart. Our knees brushed against

one another. I noted that his skin was at a higher temperature than mine was, and that he was deliciously tan. Inhaling sharply,

I kept my voice as low as I could.

 

"You know... You still haven't told me why."

 

I felt him shiver. I smirked, keeping my unwavering gaze on him. Pulling away, I watched his every movement carefully. His

luscious lips parted once more. He drew in a breath with much difficulty, eyes glistening with an unreadable emotion. I raised an

eyebrow. Did he have asthma or something?

 

"S- Shut up. You ought to... You're- You're still bleeding, you know?" He muttered quietly before he looked away, cheeks flushing.

 

Still bleeding? What. Was I some woman on her menstruation? Brat.

 

"Tch. Me, bleeding?" I laughed dryly, "Only weak people bleed. I'm not a pussy which would bleed for no utter reason."

 

How humorous. That pretty brat sure knew how to crack jokes. Crappy ones.

 

Pain. Pain shot through my entire body. Slumping forward like a ragdoll, I winced. My eyes widened in surprise. I never knew how

long I had been gripping on so tightly to my arm. The gauze was soaked. With paint.

 

"Blood," Eren whispered hoarsely, "Stop gripping onto your arm like that. You're making it worse!"

 

His eyes were filled with frenzy. He grabbed my arm wordlessly and undid the dressing quickly.

 

**_No. Don't touch me. Take your hands away._ **

 

His lean fingers rested against my pale skin. Heat emitted from his every pore. He was so close. His warmth and scent engulfed me

as a whole. Like a child, I yearned for it.

 

**_Get away. Don't let him touch you anymore._ **

 

I stared at his quavering fingers. His soft fingertips that brushed against my wrist so tenderly and gently. What was this sudden surge

of emotions that came crashing into me?

 

**_Stop. Make it stop._ **

 

What was it that throbbed against my chest, threatening to break out of every bondage? Why was my heart palpitating? I wasn't in any

form of danger. Why was-

 

A queer substance trickled down my wrist. His touch lingered across my vast canvas of lines. He looked up just then.

 

Lovely, dark and deep. His eyes were so beautiful. Mesmerizing. Intriguing. Once again, I was drawn into the depths of his eyes. I was

enthralled by the multiple emotions set in his eyes. They told a story.

 

"It's beautiful."

 

I blinked.

 

"What is?" I murmured softly, watching a tear slither down his porcelain-like cheek.

 

"Your painting. "

 

**_Lies. Get away. Don't touch me._ **

****

Rage. I was seething in anger. All I envisioned was a filthy red. Lower lip quivering in anger, I snatched my arm away. My stormy eyes

registered the look of surprise on his sharp features.

 

"D-Don't touch me," I hissed, voice laced with venom and malice.

 

Hurt. It appeared on his face for less than a second. But I saw it. My heart clenched. I tore my eyes off him.

 

**_Nothing less than your father, Levi. Like father, like son huh? Making someone hurt. Because of you. Like how your pathetic mother_ **

**_was treated. My my... You keep telling yourself you're nothing like that bastard. But blood is thicker than water. You're still a_ **

**_bastard child. Looks like you hurt poor Eren._ **

 

"Shut up. Keep your damn tramp shut!" I yelled, fingers weaving through my raven hair, " Don't talk as though you know everything about

me. You don't. I'm nothing like that dog. Don't ever. Don't ever put me in the same category as that miserable vermin. Stop. Stop messing

with my life!"

 

"Hey- Are you..."

 

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, slapping the hand before me, " Don't fucking lie a finger on me."

 

**_No matter how far you run, even to the depths of hell, I will follow. Blood is thicker than water. You are his son. And I am, a part of you._ **

**_Regardless. We will never be separated from one another._ **

 

"I'm sorry. But- "

 

I glanced at Eren, "You know what? How about you just leave me alone and fuck off?"

 

Hurt. He didn't try to hide it this time.

 

You see- some paintings are too complex. No one understands. Even if they try to.

 

 

You tried to understand.

Leant in to lend a hand.

Afraid, I defend.

For I am hard to mend.

 

Your beautiful eyes flash with hurt.

My words said- so very curt.

The walls I had to build,

the people I have killed.

 

I never meant to kill.

To protect, requires skill.

To sleep, I need a pill,

lest it feeds, to find its fill.

 

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took so long to update o_O Gomen! -bows- Hope have enjoyed reading the second chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings to all readers. It's my first time here, publishing a story. I must say that it took me quite a bit of courage to step into this world. I'm really new here and everything seems so foreign. Please look after me! Do not hesitate to provide any form of suggestion. I came here with a desire to improve and share my raging passion for not just just writing, but anime (yaoi, mostly). -smiles- Have a nice day and I will try my best to update frequently!


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